Chance Betrayal
by PreciousJax
Summary: (Reupdated on 11/15/01) I fixed the review problem, you can now leave revews without signing in. If you couldnt leave a review, its now been fixed. A chance encounter between Max and Alec leads to the betrayal of people they both hold dear.
1. Chapter I

Chance Betrayal: 

Chapter I: 

"I know, I know for sure, that life is beautiful around the world." Alec took a sharp curve at a dangerous speed, his mouth curving as the tires screamed in protest. It wasn't particularly warm; the temperature was quickly dropping as the sun dipped behind the horizon. Still, there was nothing better that whipping through the trees with the top down, having nowhere to go but wherever he wanted too. It was an unbelievable feeling, something beyond description. For the first time in his life, he had no one to report to but himself. 

His voice blended in with the tune on the radio, something turn of the century. He didn't know what it was, and the lyrics made no sense to him, but his voice blended easily and the words came as simply to him as someone who'd actually heard the song before. " I know, I know its you. You say hello and then I say I do." He was glad that he was alone. It wasn't that he was a bad singer, it fact his voice was melodic and blended well. It was just the fact that if anyone actually witnessed him singing, it would totally ruin the whole smart-ass solider deal he had going. 

When he'd still been at Manticore, one of the few things he could genuinely enjoy without any of that pesky guilt sneaking up on him was flying. The powers that be wanted their killing machines to be well rounded, so they'd all been trained to fly. Before he'd been taken up that first time, he'd been scared mindless. He was fifteen and about to embarrass himself and his training by throwing up all over himself during take off. He'll never forget that moment when his stomach settled and he'd taken the controls. It probably wasn't pure testosterone that made him drive like a maniac. He figured he knew himself well enough to recognize that the doing eighty on a windy road with the top down was as close to he was going to get to the rush of jumping out of a plane and still keep his feet on the ground. 

"Mother Russia, do not suffer, I know you're strong enough." Alec sang, dropping one hand off the steering wheel drum his hang his arm outside the door. Without even realizing it, his fingers began the tap lightly. It was nice having freedom. He wanted to be alone, he hopped into his car, and he went off to be alone. He wanted to be around people, he hopped back into his car, and he went off to be with people. Tonight, he wanted people. 

As the song faded into commercials, he reached down to fiddle with the station. That's what would ultimately cause him every problem he'd encounter over the next two weeks. 

He took his eyes off the road for not more than half a second to change to radio station. He rounded the curve automatically, barely looking at what he thought to be an empty road. 

When he did glance up, he had only a second to react. If it had been a norm, the biker would have surely been his new hood ornament. He slammed on the brake, cutting the wheel to the left. He skidded, the back end of the convertible fishtailing wildly. He didn't quite know how, it really wasn't physically possible, but by the time the car had come to a complete stop, there was a black-leather-clad female lying across the hood of his car. The way he'd hit her, she should have fallen sideways and onto the road. 

Why the hell was he mentally applying the laws of inertia to what just happened when he had someone laying across his car? Someone with a very nice a**. 

She had her back to him, but he understood later that he should have recognized her. It might have been he was worried about his car getting dented, or it might have been pure shock that he'd hit someone without it being premeditated. He should have recognized the bike, he should have recognized the hair, and he should have recognized the body. But he did recognize the voice. 

"You son of a b**ch!" Max shouted as she rolled over to glare at him through the windshield. 

Alec was embarrassed to say that for all of two seconds, he was worried about her. Maybe that was just embarrassment that he'd checked out her a**. But he quickly got over it, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms behind his head. "Fancy running into you hear, Max." He said easily, as if they were having a chat over drinks rather than shortly after hitting her with his car. Now that it was Max, he could safely say that it was probably more likely that she hit *him* instead. 

Max pushed her self off the hood, sliding down and back onto her feet easily. "You idiot. You almost killed me!" She said, rubbing her shoulder. 

Alec grinned and snapped his fingers. "Damn. If I would have known it was you, I would have tried harder not to miss." He said, opening his car door and stepping out casually. Bypassing Max, he walked to the front of the car, studying it objectively. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Max continued to rage, brushing her windblown hair off of her face. 

"I'm checking my car for dents." He said distractedly. With his hands on his hips, he rounded the corner, crouching down to run his hand over the dent in the front fender. 

"You're...What!? You hit *me* and your worried about your car?" Max raged, walking around the car to drag her bike off of the ground where it had fallen. 

"You're obviously fine." Alec said with a slightly defensive shrug. "If not, you wouldn't be here to bi**h at me right now." 

"You are an idiot." Max muttered, beginning to push her bike away from the car. 

Alec grinned at her back, happy for the darkness that kept him from getting his a** kicked to next week. The smile that light his features melted into a dark frown when he noticed the limp. "Stop." He ordered. Whether it be instinct or training that had her stopping in her tracks, he didn't know, but it only lasted a minute. In half a second, he'd caught up to her, and was grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. "Why are you limping?" He asked tactlessly. 

"Well, I don't know, lets think about what I did today. I went to work, went to hang out with some friends, had some dinner, got hit by a car...Could've been anything." She snapped sarcastically. 

"Go get in the car." Ben ordered. 

"Go get f**ked." Max suggested in a sugary sweet tone that, despite the circumstances, had a smile tugging at his lips. 

"That was the plan, but you've managed to get your ass busted, I'm taking you home." 

"No, you're going to go to hell, and I'm going to go home." Max yanked her arm free. 

Alec grabbed her arm and studied her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her skin drawn and pasty. "You look like hell." He said shortly. 

Max narrowed her eyes. "Can you hear my heart go pitter-patter?" 

"I'd ask if you wanted to talk about it, but I don't want to hear the sob story, so just get in the car so I can get this over with." There was that pesky guilt thing again. When Max didn't budge, he glared at her. "I'm not letting you drive home if you are hurt." He stated. 

Though he should have known better, he was taken completely off-guard when Max plowed a fist into his stomach. Max, as usual, didn't pull her punch. He managed to hold back all but one strangled gasp as she sauntered off. "G'night, Alec." She said sweetly as she swung a leg over her bike. 

Alec stood in the middle of the road for several minutes after the roar of the bike's engine disappeared. He blamed the bruise he was bound to get on himself completely. Every time he offered her help, or tried to help by getting the hell out of her way. If he'd just stop talking to her, then he wouldn't get the crap beaten out of him every time. With a shrug, he climbed into his car, and drove off, right hand on the steering wheel, one hand rubbing his sore abs. 


	2. Chapter II

A/N: Just a little something so you guys dont forget me. Not much, but just enough to keep the masses from forgetting who PreciousJax is. If I get lots of reviews, I might be able to get the next part up by the end of the week.   
  
By the way, this is eventually a M/A pairing in a warped sense of the word.   
  
  
Chance Betrayal   
  
Chapter II:   
  
  
Assuming one of him most common positions, Alec crossed his arms behind his head, letting the small, self-satisfied smile play across his lips. He didn't know what about trashy blondes who had no taste in clothes or decorating that drew him to them. They were the very bottom of the food chain, posing absolutely no challenge to him mentally at all. The best ones were the one who had the best skill in bed. He could spend fifteen minutes with a girl and decide if he was going to sleep with her that night. As soon as they said something intellectually challenging, they were out, and he moved on.   
  
Tonight's main course, he was calling her Blondie because he couldn't quite place at the moment, had just come out of a relationship with a 'rat fucking cop'. Apparently, after she'd moved into his apartment, her roommate had moved on and gotten a new roommate and had quickly forgotten about her. Now that relationship with cop man was down the tubes, she was left out in the cold with no apartment, no friends, and no life.   
  
Boo-hoo. That had been Alec's first though as he sat next to her at the bar, watching her pathetically try to get drunk. He almost dropped her because she was almost too annoying. He was glad he changed his mind, she had been a pleasant surprise after he'd taken pity on her and let her think her sloppy come on-s worked. Her taste in decorating hadn't been a huge, leaning towards bright pink and feathers in the tiny apartment she was squatting in. What had been surprising was her stamina.   
  
She'd satisfied him with momentary pleasure, but now it was time to go before she woke up and became all clingy. There was nothing worse than a clingy blonde when all you wanted was a shower to erase the stench of normalcy from his skin.   
  
Alec took one last moment of rest before he rose and began to pull on his clothes.   
  
  
  
  
Alec had been awake for hours. Despite that small detail, he'd been laying in bed for hours, eyes closed, his face buried in one of the pillows that came with the tiny apartment he was renting on a weekly basis. It smelled faintly of mothballs and cheap perfume. He tried not to think about anything, really, but he was failing miserably. His thoughts were an endless whirlpool that he had no control over.   
  
'I think I'm going to get steak for dinner. I wonder what happened to those kids? God, the mattresses were better back at Manticore. I wonder if I should get a job? I'm hungry. It rains here a lot. Maybe I'll move to LA. Is there is anyplace to get a good steak around here.'   
  
The inner monologue continued even after he sat up enough to grab the watch he'd invested in off the day before off the cheap metal table that served as a nightstand. Five-eighteen. When he rolled over, the mattress squeaked and springs poked him painfully in the back. He rolled out of bed and stalked naked to the pile of clothes that sat folded neatly in the one chair the room offered. He grabbed a pair of jeans, a dark green sweater, and a pair of boxers and continued into the tiny closet sized room that the landlord so graciously referred to as a bathroom.   
  
When the hot water ran out midway through his rinse and repeat, he swore lightly, and then realizing the irony, he laughed. A month ago, he viewed hot showers as pointless luxury. Now he was so addicted to hot water that the lacking of it in this apartment was grounds to spend his afternoon looking for a new one. 


	3. Chapter III

A/N: This post was a long time in the making. Thanks for your patience, and I promise that you'll like the next post a hell of a lot more. This will not being another one of the infamous unfinished PreciousJax stories. Now R&R damn it!  
  
Super huge thanks to Cat for making the ending ten times sweeter.  
  
Part 2:  
  
The throbbing beat of the hip-hop music rattled his bones even before he stepped through the doors. Crash, Alec thought with slight disdain, the name seemed appropriate. Maybe who ever had picked out this particular section of town got into a car accident and thus suffered brain damage. The only reason anyone would possibly pick this place for a hang out is if they were really, really stupid, really, really suicidal, or really, really transgenic. Even as he crossed the street to enter the club, an obviously drunk man was being thrown into a wall and beaten. Alec wasn't quite sure if it was petty robbery or just some gang-bangers with nothing better to do. Either way, he wasn't out to play humanitarian tonight, so he politely kept his eyes averted and walked past without a second thought.  
  
He didn't know what made him pull over his car and stop outside the club. Certainly not the security, or that he knew his car would be there when he got back. But when he was heading back to his apartment after a nice dinner at low scale sports bar. The drinks were good, the steaks were not. Maybe if he would have had a few more of those of those drinks, the steaks would have been better. In any case, he wasn't even interested in company that night. His original plans had been to go back to the apartment, see if there was anything worth watching on the small TV that he'd bought with his earnings from the first night of cage fights last weekend. But then he heard the music and on impulse he'd pulled his car into what he assumed to be a parking spot. It wasn't often he followed impulses so trivial as this, but he was drawn inside.  
  
The bad thing was impulses rarely made sense to him. And now that he was inside the club, he studied it non-objectively and instantly wanted to turn and walk back out. The building was crumbling and they were definitely paying off the building inspectors, otherwise this place would have been condemned a long time ago. While the sound system was good, the music coming out of said system was enough to make him cry. It was that bad. A waitress rudely knocked him aside, allowing him to see a plate full of fries, limp with their own grease, a hamburger that wasn't guaranteed to be made of beef. Obviously, they didn't come for the architecture, the music, or the food. Maybe they came for the blonde standing on a table in the corner who was wasted and quickly shedding her clothes while the bouncers, who should have been kicking her drunken ass out, threw dollar bills at her.  
  
If it hadn't been for the blonde, he would have turned and left. As it was, he ordered a beer from the large, bald black man who manned the bar, and settled down at an empty table in the back corner. It was basically empty, except the scantily clad black woman and pasty white guy in wanna-be punk clothes. They were both staring at the stripping drunk with the same amount of interest. That said a lot.  
  
Alec decided he was giving the place twenty minutes of his time. That's how long he figured it'd take the stripping blonde to pass out. By then, he figured if he didn't find another stripping drunk, then he was going home.  
  
It was times like these he thanked the Director for burning Manticore to the ground. Sure, there were genetic anomalies running around, there was always a chance that he'd be grabbed while walking down the street and chopped up for spare parts, and that he wouldn't make it through the night. But having the simple choice of deciding where to waste his time was reason enough for him. He'd once preached to Max about the joys of Manticore life. Shame he never believed in them himself.  
  
He just about choked on his drink when he saw the very person he was just thinking of walk through the door. He mentally swore a litany of curses that revealed his military background as she crossed the room. He was cornered. There was no escape. He didn't feel like dealing with her tonight. Just when the bruise was just starting to fade.  
  
He wasn't going to be a wuss, he thought as he turned in his chair to face the wall, he was going to be a man. That's why he didn't dive under the table. Maybe.maybe she just wouldn't see him.  
  
"Hey boo!" He heard the black woman from the table next to him call. Oh sweet Jesus, he thought, if Max sat down there. How could he have possibly picked the table next to the one person in here that Max knew?  
  
Even with his enhanced hearing he wasn't quite able to pick up Max's muttered reply. He heard the groan of the cheap wooden chair as Max flopped down onto it. Sweat began to pool at the base of his neck when he realized that Max had to turn a good three inches to see him. His only escape would be to walk by her and that was just as risky as sitting there and hoping to wait her out.  
  
Screwed if he did. Screwed if he didn't.  
  
He ignored his surroundings a moment as his mental commentary took over his rational thoughts. Why was he so afraid of her? The one side of his brain wondered. The other side of his brain would have denied it, but he heard the black woman speak again, and it was enough to pique his interest and have him leaning forward so he could hear better.  
  
"Max." Greasy Guy said with a leer. Alec wondered if Max realized that this guy mentally undressed her probably every time they were in the same room together. That was just the optimistic estimate. Greasy Boy might have said more, but like most raging drunks, he didn't have the attention span to remember what pathetic pick up line he wanted to use on Max, and his vision circled back to the main point of interest in the room. She used to be the stripping blonde, but now she was just the naked one. Not that Alec was about to complain.  
  
"Sketchy," Max began with a condescending glare. "You're wasted."  
  
"I'm so glad you're here to make these stunning observations for me." The black woman muttered under her breath. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Alec smirked.  
  
"I think I'm going to go offer that especially fine specimen over there the pleasure of my company." Sketchy said as he lurched to his feet. Whatever mother would name their kid Sketchy, Alec thought, must have not heard that little thing about not drinking when she was pregnant. It would explain so much. Personally, he'd been fine with X5-494 being the only identification having to worry about. Though, it made it difficult to blend in with a society of Jims and Toms when you were 494. Alec it was, Alec it would stay, at least till he thought of a good reason to change it.  
  
"I don't think you want to do that." Max said wisely, standing to try and pull the staggering Sketchy back to their table.  
  
"No no no." The black woman said, stopping Max. "The woman's been eyeing Sketch up all night. Let wigga' take a shot with home girl." Max sat back down as Sketchy headed off.  
  
"Was she really eyeing him?" Max asked after a long moment.  
  
"What do you think?" She asked with a grin.  
  
"You're mean." Max said, fighting her own smile.  
  
"Don't I know it? It'll teach him to get so drunk he doesn't know when I'm messin' with his head."  
  
"It's a lesson I learned fast." Max said confidently, grabbing the remainder of Sketchy's beer  
  
"Not fast enough to avoid karaoke night." She laughed at Max's quick look of surprise. "Don't you remember, like a year and a half ago, you were all over the bar singing some jacked up song. I had to drag your ass out of here before you got us kicked out for good. They didn't teach you military brats how to sing, did they?"  
  
It took Alec a minute to realize that no only did Max tell this random chick about Manticore, they were going to sit around talking about it in the middle of a crowded bar. What an idiot.  
  
"I don't remember this." Max said, the expression on her face one of pure horror.  
  
"Maybe its best that you not." The woman replied with a comforting pat on the arm, carefully avoiding eye contact. Alec wondered if he was the only one who could tell, even at a different table, that she was completely bullshitting Max. He was beginning to like her, not even knowing her name.  
  
"So now that we're alone, you mind telling me what's bugging you?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong." Max said quickly.  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Really." Max insisted.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Alec rolled his eyes and silently counted, waiting for Max to sob out her pathetic story of the plight of her life. It was all he could do not to ask her to hold on a second so he could run and get his violin.  
  
"It's Logan." Max said with an audible sigh. Alec smiled into his drink. Trouble in paradise? He wondered.  
  
"What's the problem, boo? Spill it to Original Cindy."  
  
He wondered if Max named her too. His respect for the woman dropped about three notches when he found out her name. These people had no self- respect, letting themselves be called these ridiculous names.  
  
"It's enough that this virus keeps us apart, but now we can barely stand in the same room with each other without getting into a fight about something."  
  
This was a conversation he could get into. Hearing about other's relationship reminded him why he would never subject himself to that drama.  
  
After a long moments hesitation, Max spoke in a monotone voice that had Alec grinning. She sounded so pathetic. It was all he could do not to laugh. "I don't know how much longer I can stand it."  
  
He wondered if he should practice feeling bad about that. Nah, he got an order. If Max didn't understand that, then she'd forgotten everything that her precious martyr brother had taught her.  
  
"You went a year claiming that there was nothing between you." Original Cindy said calmly. "You guys can go another month or two till you figure this bitch out."  
  
"It's not even that. We could handle that. I mean, we spent a year apart, what's another couple of month in the long scheme of things?" Even as she said this, Max fidgeted with the edge of her napkin. She took a deep breath and then spoke quickly. "I think he's seeing someone else."  
  
"Yeah right." Original Cindy instantly snapped. "You know as well as I do that he isn't seeing someone else."  
  
"Then why did he practically kick me out of his place, saying he had to do some stuff. Whenever I walk in, he hangs up the phone. Whenever I ask if he wants to do something, he's got somewhere else to be."  
  
"He's probably doing some of his Clark Kent shit." Original Cindy waved a hand in front of her face in dismissal.  
  
"When I ask, he'll never tell me what it's about." Max shot back. "He's always told me about work, even when I didn't want to hear about it. Why would he all of a sudden stop? Unless he wasn't doing work and he was seeing someone else."  
  
Alec pursed his lips and considered this. There was some distant emotion, one he could not yet identify, starting to mix in with the nonchalant humor.  
  
Max and Original Cindy's words blended together as he zoned out on their conversation. 'I know all I need to know.' He thought with a smirk into his drink. So there was trouble in paradise? She'd destroyed everything that he'd known in his life for nothing more than her misguided sense of love. They'd been taught better than that.  
  
Maybe he should thank her, though. Manticore offered security, but Alec was quickly learning that there was some pleasure to be found in spontaneity. He realized that in a small way, he almost felt bad that things weren't working out for Max.  
  
Then he wondered why he suddenly cared.  
  
He debated this silently for several moments before finally coming to the conclusion that it was just all the time he'd been spending with sentimental people finally getting to him. When he looked up, Max was alone, with Original Cindy nowhere in sight. Max was staring at the table, her face completely neutral, but you could practical feel the waves of sadness coming off her.  
  
Stupid norms and their stupid need to comfort people.  
  
"Hey Max." He said for a lack of anything better. Her eyes snapped up and locked on his face so fast, it was a wonder she didn't hurt anything. Surprise, annoyance, embarrassment all swirled together in her eyes. She had very expressive eyes.  
  
"How long have you been there?" She asked at length.  
  
"Its basic custom to return one's greeting before you go all Spanish inquisition on them." Alec said as he picked up his drink and moved to Original Cindy's now vacated seat.  
  
"I don't recall giving you permission to sit there." Max said, not so subtly sliding her chair away.  
  
"With your manners, I'd have waited all night."  
  
Max smiled sweetly. "That says something, doesn't it?"  
  
"Oh come on, Max!" Alec said with a smile, leaning closer to her. "That's just downright unfriendly! Just because you're in a bitchy mood doesn't mean you have to take it out on the rest of us."  
  
"I'm not taking it out of everyone. I'm taking it out on *you*." Max placed her hands on his chest and shoved Alec back in his chair. "So take a hint and leave me the hell alone." Max dropped a handful of crinkled dollar bills on the table. "I'm out of here."  
  
Alec grabbed Max's hand before she could retreat with the simple flick of his wrist. "You know why you hate me so much, Max?" He asked with an easy smile.  
  
"Because you're a total asshole with out a single idea of responsibility, morals, or any common sense? That you're conceited, you use people, and you only care about yourself?"  
  
Alec's grin spread. "Well, sure, but you also barely know me."  
  
"I know all I need to know." Max attempted to pull her hand away.  
  
"Why don't you stop passing judgment for five minutes and sit the down and have a drink with me?"  
  
"Why don't you get the hell off me?" But Max found she sitting down nonetheless.  
  
"Good girl." Alec praised, searching the crowd for one of the few waitresses that roamed the club. It would take ten times longer to get their drinks, but at least he wouldn't risk getting up to get them himself and having Max be gone by the time he got back.  
  
Max sighed. "Please don't piss me off tonight, I really don't feel like being here."  
  
"Well then, how about a game of pool?" Alec asked with a superior smile.  
  
  
  
Max quickly found herself forgetting she'd ever been upset to begin with. Somehow, without her even realizing it, Alec had managed to worm his way through her gloomy mood. "Sorry, Max." Alec said quietly. "But you don't have a chance in hell of making that shot."  
  
Max shot him a challenging smile. "Corner pocket." She said, pointing to the left with her stick. The small crowd around them fell completely silent as she took her shot. The ball rolled slowly and dramatically towards its destination, seeming to freeze on the edge of the pocket before silently dropping in. It wasn't silent much longer as the spectators burst into loud hoots and cheers.  
  
Alec grinned, resting his chin on his stick nonchalantly. "Nice shot, Max." He said with a small smile. "But you haven't got a chance in hell of getting the eight ball."  
  
Max threw her head back and laughed. "Do you enjoy losing?"  
  
"I'm not going to lose this one." Alec insisted, but counted three of the striped balls still on the table. "Well, I'm not going to lose the next one."  
  
"You've lost three straight games and you're still insisting that you're letting me win." Max said shaking her head. She draped herself across the table and silently tapped the side pocket with the tip of her stick. The black eight ball coasted into the pocked with out hesitation.  
  
And the crowd went absolutely wild. Max found a free beer pushed into her hands, several pats on the back, one affectionate slap on the ass from one drunk individual, and several indecent proposals. All the while, wondering the best approach to rubbing her victory in Alec's face.  
  
Neither of them knew how she went from flaunting her victory by the pool table to flaunting a hell of a lot more than that in his bed. 


End file.
